


just call my name

by itsukoii



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, and he actually likes metallica, but he entertains richie anyway, eddie absolutely hates it, richie went through a metal phase in the early 90s and nobody can take that headcanon away from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 11:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21301007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsukoii/pseuds/itsukoii
Summary: It's 1993 and Richie's been into metal for a few months, now; he's annoying, he's obnoxious, and Eddie can't stand it.(He'll never admit that he actually likes some of it.)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	just call my name

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i've been into reddie hell for almost two months now and i've finally gotten around to completing a fic, even if it's short, but i'm super excited to be posting this! a few disclaimers before we begin:  
\- title is from metallica's "master of puppets". i own none of the songs or lyrics or bands mentioned in this fic, nor do i own the characters!  
\- i've only seen the 2017 and 2019 movies and have not read the book. everything i know is from the movies or from what i've picked up on reading other peoples' fics! for this reason, i apologize if it seems ooc at all  
\- i made a playlist for richie's metal phase in case anyone is interested lol https://open.spotify.com/playlist/31Ju4swT7YEt5KtpfusNiT?si=jqjSs3tUT8aKehdzXDktkA

"Richie, what the _ever–loving fuck_ is this?" Eddie's yelling over the _noise_ blasting from Richie's shitty truck's speakers. Richie takes his eyes off the road for a moment to flash Eddie a grin. They're coming home from school – since getting the truck, Richie always insists driving him to and from, and occasionally the other Losers, too, but Eddie's always _number–o uno, a first-class passenger!_ as Richie likes to put it. But with the privilege of being driven around in such a "sweet ride" – Richie's words, obviously – comes a price that must be paid.

"This, my good man, is _Pantera!_" Richie shouts back, intermittent of his obnoxious headbanging, which he totally _should not be doing_ while driving, Eddie thinks to himself with a furrowed brow. Behind the wheel, Richie's grinning as if what he'd just said is the epitome of common knowledge. _"It's time to rise! Rise! Rise!"_

Huffing, Eddie makes a reach for the volume knob, only to be slapped away before he can turn down the noise. Yes – _noise_ – not music. Richie's fucking lucky he's driving, or he'd have gotten a smack in return.

"This is garbage!" Eddie yells, but with he can barely even hear himself _think_ over Richie's shout–singing and crunchy guitars, there's no way the words reached his gangly friend. He knows they haven't when Richie doesn't even bat an eye, he just continues to yell the lyrics – how does he even know what the vocalist is saying? "Put on something else!"

A stupid, _wicked_ grin takes over Richie's face then, just as the song, at _last,_ ends, and Eddie knows Richie's heard him.

"You're gonna' wish you didn't say that!"

And, reluctantly, Eddie has to admit Richie is fucking _right_ – because what plays next is even _worse._ How is that possible?

_"Welcome to my world, involve yourself within my dream!"_

"You're going to crash the fucking truck, Richie! Turn this garbage off!"

"Never!" Richie shouts back, giving an extra obnoxious headbang as he does so, his messy black curls flying all over the goddamn place. Eddie can't help but reach for the handle above him, because even though he knows Richie is a good, attentive driver, he's still _reckless,_ and does it solely to piss Eddie off. "_Slayer,_ bitch!"

It's not the first time they've had an argument like this; in fact, it's 1993 and Richie's been into metal for more than a few months now. He's always had a heavier, more obscure music taste than any of the other Losers – Bev excluded, because her and Richie shared the same love for grunge and rock – but it's never been like _this._ And it's not like he’s trying to become one with the Bowers gang through their mutual love of _Anthrax_ or _Sepultura_ or whatever the fuck; Richie's still Richie, regardless of his music taste – and he's still looking pretty gangly and nerdy, big glasses and Hawaiian shirts and all, though his hair's grown quite a lot – but that doesn't mean Eddie's going to like it. In fact, Eddie fucking _hates_ Richie's music. He's never been quiet about that fact, but it's only been used against him, because Richie seems to play only the most obnoxious noise when Eddie's around.

It's almost as if Richie's sole purpose in life is to annoy Eddie until he explodes.

_"Eds, Eds, look at this!" Richie exclaimed one day when he'd successfully dragged Eddie to the local music shop._ Eddie, browsing the softer, popular music section, groaned when he heard his friend bounding up to him from the other side of the store.

"Don't call me that! What do you want?"

Grinning from ear–to–ear, Richie presents a cassette with an obnoxiously colourful cover, and Eddie has to squint hard to see what's going on. In a brutal accent, Richie reads, _"La Sexorcisto: Devil Music Volume 1!"_

Eddie rolls his eyes so hard he's sure they're going to fall right out of his skull. "The fuck even _is_ that?"

_"White Zombie!"_ Richie's grin turns into something shit–eating when he flips the cassette over and reads something aloud, "Track one: _Welcome to Planet Motherfucker!_ Eddie, it's my home planet!" And then he does an annoying E.T. impression, pointing his finger to the sky.

_"Ri–chie, phone home,"_ he says in a gravelly voice that makes Eddie cringe, _"Ri–chie, phone home!"_

"Yeah, I'm in favour of sending you away to another planet," Eddie deadpans, turning back to the selection of music that actually interests him.

"Rude! At least I know your mom would be simply _devastated_ if I left... wait, what if she came with? My fellow motherfuckers would–"

"Oh my god, shut up Richie!" Eddie groans as he throws his head back in exasperation. "Is that really what you're going to waste your money on?"

"Fuck yeah, I am!"

~

Eddie rolls his eyes as he finishes recalling the memory. He wonders if that album ended up being any good; he doubted it, but chuckled softly to himself at the though of Richie enjoying it anyway. His hand loosened its death grip on the handle above as Richie appears to have either taken some pity on Eddie or calmed down. The _Slayer_ song had ended, leading into _Master of Puppets,_ a song Eddie didn't mind – he didn't mind _Metallica,_ actually. By "mind", he means tolerate, of course. He doesn't like it. But he'll put up with it.

(Okay, he _kind of_ likes Metallica. And some of Richie's grunge, but it's not like he'd ever admit to that.)

"Eddie."

Eddie doesn't even look at him.

_"Eddie."_

Eddie can hear the grin in Richie's voice. He doesn't look over, but he can feel Richie's obnoxious headbanging (see: bobbing) shake the rickety truck as the becomes one with the beginning riff.

"Eds, I know you like this one!" Richie shouts over the music, his hand falling off the wheel to jab at Eddie's shoulder. Eddie only huffs, but he can feel his hand tapping against his thigh to the beat against his will. _"End of passion play, crumbling away! I'm your source of self–destruction!"_

Eddie has to clench his jaw to avoid joining in. He knows the words to this one, and Richie _knows_ he knows. Richie keeps shoving at him, bit–by–bit breaking down, and when Eddie finally cracks and sees Richie's huge grin, he can't help but roll his eyes before succumbing as the pre–chorus begins. _Fuck it._

_"Your life burns faster!"_ Richie shouts, still grinning, and upon the next word, Eddie's resistance is completely dissipated. He shouts along, just as obnoxiously, in perfect sync with Richie, grinning just the same as he simultaneously headbangs and lets the music take control of his entire body, filling it with adrenaline. The volume hurts his ears, but he doesn't care.

_"Obey–"_

_"Your–"_

_"Master! Master!”_

_"Master of puppets, I'm pulling your strings!"_

_"Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams!"_

They're shout–singing terribly, they're off–key, pedestrians are looking at them weird, and Eddie doesn't give a _fuck._ He and Richie shout at each _other,_ at the sky, out the windows, and Eddie lets himself not worry about the statistic of how likely they are to get in a crash right now. Richie isn't going very fast, he's paying attention to the road and every obstacle. Eddie, somehow, feels safe.

Before the song even ends, they reach Eddie's street, and with a heavy hand Richie reaches for the volume knob, turning it down until it's a mere whisper in the background. Richie always has to park further down the street, so Sonia won't know Eddie's been getting rides instead of walking, and if he's blasting music, it'd be a dead give–away.

"This is where we part, my fair maiden."

"You're the maiden," Eddie shoots back, letting the adrenaline flow out of his system as he sits back in the passenger seat and catches his breath.

"_Iron Maiden,_ maybe!" As if on cue, Eddie rolls his eyes for the –nth time that day.

"You're so annoying."

"Sure am, but you love me!"

_Yeah. I guess I kinda do._

Eddie huffs before grabbing his bag and getting out, waving goodbye to Richie as he starts walking down the street. Richie waves back and continues staring at Eddie for a few moments more as the boy walks away, a soft smile coming to his face before he shakes his head and pulls back onto the street, blasting _Got the Time_ by _Anthrax_ as he does so.

Eddie turns and watches him speed off with a fond smile.


End file.
